


sea glass

by Archadian_Skies



Series: DBH rarepair week 2020 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Healing, M/M, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Recovery, it's the bellini paints jerry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: Monday Day 1: Flowers; post-revolution Ralph/Bellini Paints Jerry
Relationships: Jerry(s)/Ralph (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: DBH rarepair week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682719
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	sea glass

Deviancy isn’t a jarring, violent event for him. Deviancy bears no trauma, no sadness, no weeping like an open wound unrepaired so unlike the jarring violence he watched on the news. Deviancy was slow and steady and gentle; the removal of a wall brick by brick. His entire life is this store, its walls lined with jars of pigments and illuminated with soft ambient lighting. All the cherry lacquer cabinetry has a pleasing rosy hue to the wood, and the polished brass knobs and handles aid in the stately, regal aesthetic of the brand. 

He was purchased for Mr Giuseppe and Mrs Francesca Bellini in 2028 by Alessandro Bellini, their son, who had no interest in carrying on the family business. What began as menial help unpacking stock and keeping things tidy soon grew into him helping out at the counter and measuring precise pigment orders. As the Bellinis aged he took on more and more responsibilities, and never once were they unkind to him, never once did they treat him as a cold unfeeling machine like so many others. Once the store closed, Francesca would sit him on a chair in the tiny tea room and wrap a knitted shawl around his shoulders to keep the chill at bay. He learned to make them tea the way they liked it, and that the bakery further down, Essie’s, had sweet pastries that paired well with their tea. Giuseppe would pat his hands sometimes, a distant look in his eyes as he smiled a distracted smile. He felt...calm with them. He felt feelings, good ones, whenever they interacted with him. He learned the names of the regulars, including the famous Carl Manfred who seemed very good friends with them both. 

Death doesn’t affect androids the same way it affects humans, but he learns grief is the same. Giuseppe dies one Autumn eve in 2031 and he misses him like a missing biocomponent. Bellini Paints does not feel complete without Giuseppe Bellini. 

A year passes and Carl Manfred gets into a horrible vehicle accident and can only manage online orders. One day an android turns up to collect Carl Manfred’s order. He does not look like any other android he has seen, nor any on the CyberLife catalogue. He has a gentle, friendly demeanour that is at odds with the methodical, purposeful behaviours programmed into androids. The years trickle by, soft and slow and gentle like rain off rooftops.

A revolution happens and rocks America to its core and yet at the same time it seems like nothing has changed at all. Life goes on. Francesca leaves the city with her son well before the President’s orders but he gets her messages, her daily little ‘make sure you put on your shawl at night’s and ‘sleep well :)’s. 

He comes to Jericho for the celebration of the Sentient Life Act and finally interacts with others of his kind and they ask him for his story, for his name. Vincent, he says, like Vincent Van Gogh because his hair is sunset red and he’s always liked his paintings.

They are alive, beautifully, colourfully, joyfully alive and he knows he is one of the lucky ones. Deviancy has been beautiful, colourful and joyful for him when it was harsh, cruel and sudden for others. Most bear their scars inside, but others have them carved in their casing. Human cruelty is as boundless as their kindness, varying by luck alone it seems. 

One such android he meets on a late afternoon in the alleyway behind the store as he’s disposing of the delivery boxes. He’s a WR600 with a heavily scarred face and a damaged eye, immediately brandishing a knife when he realises he’s been spotted.

“It’s alright.” Vincent slowly sets the boxes down and holds up his palms in surrender, letting the skin recede to bear the white plastic beneath.

“O-oh you’re-” the android nods rapidly, red LED cycling down to yellow. “Sorry, Ralph doesn’t like humans. Humans aren’t nice to Ralph.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ralph. I’m Vincent.”

“Vincent. Vincent. Vincent.” He repeats softly under his breath, as if committing it to memory. “Humans keep you here?”

“No.” He shakes his head with a smile. “I stay here because I want to.”

“With humans?”

“Yes.” A nod, a sigh. “Well. One human now. There used to be two.”

“Humans are fragile.” Ralph nods rapidly, distracted. “Soft.”

“Can I help you? Would you like to come inside?” Still ensuring his movements are slow so as not to startle him, Vincent gestures at the door and opens it wider. “It’s cold out here, and there’s heating inside.”

“No human?”

“No human.” He reassures with a nod, standing aside so Ralph can peer into the storeroom and confirm for himself. “She’s with her son. She’s old and will come back when Detroit’s a little warmer.” 

“No human.” Ralph nods rapidly and shuffles inside. He’s clutching a worn book in his hands, and the broken pastels Vincent had thrown out the other day since they were unfit to be sold. Ralph catches his line of sight, and nervously holds out the book. “When Detroit’s a little warmer.” 

It’s an old worn notebook most likely salvaged from trash, pages waterlogged and creased but what few pages remain have been transformed into intricate garden plans. 

“Ralph will plant seeds again. Grow things, nice things, big green things and flowers too.” His smile is bright and contagious, and Vincent finds himself smiling too. “Good good things.”

“Where will you grow your garden, Ralph?”

“New place, here, see? Ralph will grow them here.” He flips over to a different page and there’s a meticulously replicated map of Detroit city. “Here, by the bridge. Good size, near friend.”

“You’re friends with Theobald?” Vincent’s smile grows. “The brewer?”

“Good friend! Ralph is good friends. He’s very nice. Lets me sleep inside the brewing room. It’s very warm.” 

“Did you need more drawing supplies, Ralph?” The other android nods enthusiastically. “Here, I’ll fetch you more. And a nicer visual diary, for when you run out of room.” He’s not sure if he’s allowed to give things away, but he’s considered alive now and he’s worked here for years so surely Mrs Bellini won’t mind? He chooses a tin of coloured pencils and a lovely brown leather diary with 200gsm pages. “Here.”

“For...Ralph?”

“Yes.” Vincent nods. “And you can come show me your progress, does that sound like a fair trade?”

“Ralph can do that!” 

The snow melts away into Spring, slowly but surely, and that means during the transition between seasons there’s lots of rain and heavy slush. Detroit’s human citizens grumble and groan about how bleak the weather is but Vincent rather enjoys it from the cosiness inside Bellini Paints. Cold Winter weather and wet Spring weather are rather ideal conditions for staying inside to create art and so he’s kept busy filling boxes, attaching the smaller ones to drones and stacking the larger ones for the delivery team. Every so often he’d find Ralph waiting by the back entrance, fidgeting in the shadows and darting nervous glances until he let him in.

“They’re starting to bud! See? See!” Ralph excitedly shows him detailed drawings filling page after page; photographs replicated in pencil almost as if they belonged in an encyclopedia.

“You draw so beautifully, Ralph.” He compliments with a smile and Ralph flashes him an ecstatic grin before it wobbles into something a little shy, a little self-conscious. 

“Ralph just draws what he sees.” 

“How beautiful.” He says, and he feels like he’s not really talking about the way he sees plants anymore.

It’s a soft, fair afternoon and he’s left the back door open to let in the warm breeze and carry out the smell of paint that somehow lives in the very walls. There’s a faint scratching noise which would be unsettling to most but Vincent knew the origin well.

“Hello Ralph.” He greets before he turns around, and there’s Ralph scratching his hand across the doorframe in his shy anxious way of knocking. “Come to show me an update?”

“Ralph brings gifts.” His voice is a little unsure, a little nervous and Vincent smiles encouragingly.

“Gifts?” 

“Ralph traded for them, Ralph made posters for Theo.” Enthusiasm flashes across his face and he thrusts out a neat carry case of four bottles. “Ralph and Vincent can drink them! We can do like the humans do!”

“Oh, is this Tearium?” Setting the pack on the breakroom table, he carefully extracts one of the glass bottles. “I’ve only had this once, when the Sentient Life Act was passed and there was that big party at Jericho.”

“This one is special.” Ralph nearly bounces with excitement. “Special special! Special for Ralph! Theo made it for Ralph!”

“Then let me get the special cups.” Vincent declares, opening the cupboard and taking out Francesca’s lovely tea set; a gift from her son when he traveled abroad. “What flavour is it?”

“Ralph won’t tell! It’s a surprise!” Ralph giggles, hands flapping as if barely able to contain his excitement. Carefully pouring them an equal share, Vincent raises the dainty bone china cup to his lips and takes a tentative sip. Tearium is usually meant to be charged through a small device to heat it up, but even at room temperature the beverage is pleasant to consume. The coding spreads over his tongue and he tastes apples and cinnamon and a heaping of honey, like an apple pie that’s been turned into a drink or, well, he supposes that’s what it is since he’s not built to eat things. He likes it, and he likes that he likes it very much because liking things is in itself an act of deviancy and one to rejoice in. 

“It’s wonderful Ralph, thank you for sharing.”

“We can do like the humans do.” He says again, only his tone is different, like he’s nervously seeking approval from him. 

“We can, Ralph.” Vincent nods, smiling as Ralph sips his own drink. “The two of us having a cup of tea during our break, like Mr and Mrs Bellini would do.” 

The words come out of his mouth and they taste… like something he’s never tasted before, like this drink that’s new and wonderful and sweet. It fills him with warmth in the same way, and Ralph’s smile isn’t so wobbly from nerves it’s small and hopeful and shy and Vincent thinks he likes it very much.

“Oh Vincent, where is your shawl?” Mrs Francesca Bellini chides, tutting at him as she shuffles around looking for the knitted article. “You know it’s still chilly by the time we close, even if we’re almost into Summer.”

“Yes Mrs Bellini.” Vincent smiles apologetically. “Let me fetch it from the breakroom, I left it on the back of one of the chairs.” It is exactly where he left it, the yarn soft and pliant under his hands and it is a joy to touch, to hold after all these years because it belongs to him, because it was made for him and no one else. Draping it around his shoulders, he re-enters the store only to find Ralph frozen still in the doorway, Francesca curiously looking at him from behind the counter. The android is clutching something behind his back, good eye wide in shock and LED bright red.

“Can I help you young man?” Francesca blinks, making a beckoning gesture. “It’s alright, I haven’t closed the banking off yet.”

“R-R-” Their eyes lock and Ralph steadies himself. “Ralph is here to see Vincent.”

“Oh! Well he’s just- there you are.” Francesca pats his shoulder approvingly, nodding at the shawl tucked around his shoulders. “Shall I leave you to close up? Alessandro will be here soon.”

“Yes Mrs Bellini.” He confirms with a small smile and she looks at him, scrutinises him for a moment before looking over at Ralph. She must see something he doesn’t because she smiles suddenly, a big bright smile that makes her eyes crinkle. She pats his shoulder again before leaving through the breakroom and out the back.

“You’ve never come through the front of the store before, Ralph.” Vincent comments as Ralph seems to use all his willpower to put one foot in front of the other until he’s standing opposite him, the counter between them. “It’s good to see you.”

“R-Ralph brought these. For you.” He thrusts a colourful bouquet of flowers at him, such an array it reminds him of an artist’s palette. When he accepts the bouquet, the realisation spreads through him like warm apple and cinnamon Tearium.

“These are the flowers you’ve been growing.” Vincent murmurs, and somehow it’s a beautiful joy and a beautiful hurt in his chest all at once, like an ache but a good kind. “Is this your update, Ralph?”

“We-we can-” he stammers, LED still red but determination in his eyes and perhaps maybe even some sort of yearning too. “We can...do like the humans do. Like your humans. The good ones. We can be together like them- if- if you want?”

“Yes Ralph.” Vincent smiles, reaching over to gently cup his palm against his damaged faceplate and he’s never been broken, never been ugly to him; his face is like sea glass, something buffeted and struck down and polished into something beautiful. “I want that very much.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [I'm still on this hellsite.](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> Vincent makes his first appearance in my other fic [[if you go, take a little piece of me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220943)] .  
> 


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